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“Las Vegas is a vortex of porn this weekend,” says Kim Kysar, the product manager of Pink Visual. “There are hundreds of shoots going on.”

I believe her. I’m at one – a six-girl, girl-on-girl orgy party scene at a mansion near Warm Springs and Valley View. (If it seems like there are a lot of “girls” in this sentence, consider that there are twice as many having sex in front of me.)

Every year, pornography companies like Vivid, Wicked, Playboy, Hustler, Naughty America, Bang Bros and countless others fly into Vegas from L.A. and other cities and rent suburban houses for the week. They’re far cheaper than booking Strip hotel rooms and the entourage of company staffers, film crew and porn stars settle in and start shooting.

Jennifer Grafiada

The evening's stacked lineup.

Before “action” is called, the six beautiful women get their faces applied by a professional makeup artist, put on their costumes - by which I mean undress - perform strip teases for the DVD bonus material, sign forms and swig Red Bull.

Baby wipes, lube, razors, enemas, bananas, chips and water are on hand.

There is a plot: A house party is in motion. Totally normal. People shoot pool and twentysomethings hold the requisite red plastic cups of beer. Still normal.

Bras and panties come off; toys come out; the high-heel stripper shoes stay on. Meanwhile, others stare, snap photos and smile. The floor is littered with colorful lingerie and everyone is quiet except for the girls, who are very loud.

It’s pure sex, but it isn’t doing much for me. So much of sexual excitement comes from the chase, the conquest, the chemistry, the context, the mutual attraction and the shared intimacy. But maybe I’m just a girl and don’t get it.

“Are you turned on yet?” asks the male videographer, filming the soiree turned sorority house orgy.

No.

He continues, “This is my daily job and it never gets old.”

My male friend has since set me straight: "Porn isn't about the conquest, it's about excess."